


Changing Tack

by AraSigyrn



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Pony Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/AraSigyrn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meet Cute at the Pony Meet</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing Tack

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kink Bingo Round Five for my 'Animal Play' with grateful thanks to Deannawol for helping me refine my Google research, thinking of a title and beta-ing. All remaining mistakes are, as ever, entirely my own damn fault.

Brad picks Adam up at one on Friday. Adam's sour and twitchy from about eleven.

He hasn't been having a bad week; nothing's happened that he can point to and say "That was shitty." It's just been a week of things not quite working out and Adam's restless and fretful. Six months ago, he'd have called Brad on Thursday and they'd already be outside the city, sex sore and caterwauling along with the radio.

Adam misses the sex but Brad was right. It's ...not easy, never easy but they are going to be better as friends. Adam reminds himself of that every morning but this morning, after calling in sick because he is fucked if he is spending the morning making polite talk with the gossip divas. Instead Adam gets out the polish and some rags and his tack and does some cleaning.

Brad keeps the tails and the plumes for the bridles. He also keeps the first harness because, well, he bought it. Adam bought the boots and Cassidy bought the hoof mitts for their first anniversary because Brad had gotten high at Burning Man and bitched about Adam's utter inability to keep his hands to himself. Adam had been mortified - his sexuality, he will motherfucking _own_ but this...this isn't about sex, not really and it's discomfiting to have people from Adam's 'real' life knowing about it. He didn't use the mitts for a month but now, they're part of the whole experience and he'd feel incomplete without them.

It's a three day event and Brad has been shopping for new clothes. He tells Adam all about it as they drive North. Adam doesn't really respond because it's a gorgeous day. Clear blue skies but a fresh wind and he's already full to over-flowing with the need to run.

"Oh my fucking god," Brad snaps eventually. "Did you even remember your sun cream?" 

"Yes," Adam rolls his eyes.

"I will tan your ass if you bitch about freckles," Brad warns. "I got a new crop and everything."

"I get to bitch if you let me burn," Adam parries.

"One time," Brad grumbles, propping his elbow against the window. "I let you get burnt _one time_..."

"And I couldn't sit for a week," Adam turns into the bumpy trail that leads up to Sea Horse Ranch. Brad clings to the dashboard and threatens Adam if he doesn't "slow the fuck down, Jesus! Think of my poor suspension!" 

Adam has to consciously stop himself from just leaping right out and he parks carefully in the graveled lot between the ranch house and the stables. They're not the first ones here - he can see half a dozen other cars and pickups lined up neatly. Most of them have out-of-state plates but Adam doesn't stop to look.

He's too busy pulling their bags out of the trunk while Brad dusts off his jeans and peers around.

"Cheeks, Adam!" The cheerful call from the stable door makes Adam smile. Muriel 'Maggie' Gallagher is old enough to be his mom and with a whip in her hand, she's the scariest woman on the West Coast but she's smiling now, warm and welcoming. "Good to see you boys! C'mon in, I saved your stall for you."

She talks with Brad as she leads them in, leaving Adam to manage his tack-bag and the ridiculously oversized duffel that is Brad's only luggage. Adam doesn't mind being excluded; just from the smell of straw and wood and sweat, he's halfway into headspace. He can see brass nameplates hanging off stall doors and he recognizes most of the names: Glitter is an improbably huge bear with the world's tiniest and bossiest wife: Tommi-gal is a sweet mare from Washington - she's one of the only ponies that Adam's lost a dressage event to and he smiles to himself. He's going to own her this time.

There's also a shiny new plate, still with brass filings clinging to it, that reads simply 'Freckles'. There aren't any ribbons or anything but Adam hears a woman's voice, low and sweet with a Southern twang and mentally shrugs.

Maggie runs an open event and the welcome mat is always out. Adam mostly regards the new arrivals with distant indifference: plenty of people like to get prettied up for Pride but freak when they're faced with a whole weekend in gear. He drops the bags just outside the stall he and Brad use and Maggie pats him a little self-consciously on the back. She's freer with her hands when he's wearing nothing but a butt-plug and boots but Adam can't blame her.

This part is the part he dislikes: the nebulous point where he's drifting back and forth across the line of Adam-the-human and Bravo-the-pony and his skin isn't big enough to hold them both. Brad is the only person who knows how to handle him and he proves it by shaking out a clean mesh bag for Adam's clothes.

Brad doesn't make a production of looking away; what would be the point? Brad's seen Adam naked a hundred times before. Still, he doesn't make a point of watching. He gets Adam's tack out, checking it for himself and rubbing at tiny marks on the leather with a cloth, effortlessly busying himself until Adam is naked.

Part of the busy-work is hanging the rosettes from their past events around the stall door and Brad fusses a little about the ribbons trailing from them. Then, he watches while Adam steps into the boots and laces them up. Adam rocks back and forth, re-finding and testing his new center of gravity and taking his first unsteady steps across the straw covered floor. The boots force his ass out and Adam's own stubborn pride keeps his shoulders back. Brad smiles, softer than he has been smiling these last few weeks.

"Remember the first time you pulled those boots on? I thought Terry was going to stroke out; perfect carriage, right from the start."

Adam nods distractedly, focused on making sure that everything fits and there's no chafing. Brad runs a warm hand along his side, testing Adam's balance for himself and nods.

The boots are the last act of independence. Adam needs Brad's help to pull on the mitts and fasten the laces. Brad's fingers are crazy nimble - even when he isn't wearing them, Adam can't reliably tie the mitts' laces - and Adam flexes his hands. The leather/steel is stiff and the mitts are just heavy enough that he's aware of the weight as he draws up his arms.

"Easy," Brad tucks the loop of the bow into the gloves and stands back. "Circulation okay?"

Adam tosses his head and Brad snorts. He picks up the bottle of sun cream and starts rubbing it in. Adam dances back skittishly and the first brush of his fingers and Brad rolls his eyes.

"Stand! I need to get this on first or you'll burn along the edge of your harness."

Adam still dances back a step every time Brad adds more cream but even though he bitches the whole way through, Brad is careful and very thorough. Adam's skin feels slick and slightly greasy when Brad's done and he stamps a foot disapprovingly.

"Stop being such a fucking diva," Brad says, massively unimpressed, and turns to pick up the harness.

Adam's giddy with repressed energy, the hunch of his back and the shift of his balance makes him feel like he's tip-toeing around on springs and he can feel the need to run shivering along his spine. His cock is half-hard, bobbing between his legs and the low thrum of arousal adds to the fizzling energy bubbling through his system. Adam keeps shifting as Brad tries to fasten the straps of the harness in place, cursing under his breath. 

Brad's a closet perfectionist and Adam shouldn't be pissing him off but he can't help the constant tiny movements. It takes longer than it normally does but finally Brad sits back on his heels and nods.

Brad picks up the bridle next and has to stand on his tip-toes to get the bit between Adam's teeth. Adam opens his mouth willingly and even dips his head to let Brad fasten the buckles at the back. His hooves tap out an erratic jig despite himself and Brad tugs a little harder than Adam likes on the halter rope. Adam snorts.

"Don't even start with me," Brad warns, looping the halter rope around the hook in the wall. "Or so help me, I will march you out there with your hair in spikes and a tangled tail."

He's not serious but Adam stills anyway, scraping a hoof through the straw and along the concrete floor underneath.

"Better," Brad allows, reaching for the tail. "You need the bathroom?" 

It's a serious offer and Adam wiggles his hips thoughtfully and thinks. Then he shakes his head and Brad takes the lube out of his duffel. It's a familiar half-squeezed tube and Adam blinks at it as Brad checks the tail hasn't gotten tangled in the five minutes since he took it out of its bag.

"Relax for me," Brad says, warm hand on the small of Adam's back and Adam bends forward obediently. "This is going to be a little cold."

Adam's already warm enough that the lubed tip of the plug feels like ice between his cheeks and he whickers despite himself.

"I know, baby," Brad croons. "Just try to relax."

The plug slides in, it's smooth and slick and Brad's done this so many times before that Adam only barely registers the stretch as the widest curve presses in. It's just large enough that he's aware of it. He clenches down when Brad's hand taps his back. Brad hums to himself and Adam shakes his ass, feeling the swish of his tail against his calves even through the leather of the boots. The plug bumps his prostate as he straightens and Adam skitters sideways, biting down on the bit at the jolt.

Brad catches the halter rope, tugging him insistently back into place. He relaxes and lets Brad check the fit of the harness again and add the blinkers to the bridle without moving too much. Finally Brad nods and goes for the brushes. Brad's a fucking pro with the brushes and Adam hangs his head, eyes half-closed as Brad combs his hair with careful strokes. The plug shifts a little as Brad brushes out his tail and Adam's cock hardens. He's not quite fully hard by the time Brad finishes but the thrum of arousal is more like a burn.

"All right, let's get your pretty little ass out there and meet the greenies." Brad urges him forward and Adam steps out, lifting his hooves high and by the time he steps out into the stable, he's forgotten that he's supposed to care about being mostly naked and hard. 

Brad leads him out to the ring and Adam can hear other trainer's voices and the creak of leather over the way his hooves ring against the cobblestones. Adam tosses his head, making the rings of his bridle jingle and tries to quicken his pace. Brad reels him back in and Adam tosses his head again, eager to run and Brad laughs even as he keeps the halter tight.

"Someone's eager," The voice makes Adam startle and he sidesteps, nearly stepping on Brad who has to dodge. It's a familiar voice, though it takes a second for Adam to place it and he turns his head to look down at the woman who was in Freckles' stall. She's small, dark-haired (dyed, he's pretty sure) with a sweet, shy expression.

"He's a showboat," Brad says airily. "Bravo, don't bother the nice lady."

Adam steps back obediently when Brad shakes the rope. The woman looks at him, clearly struggling to keep her eyes above the waist and Adam bites his bit to hide the smile. She's obviously, painfully new and Brad pats his ass.

"I'm Brad and this is Bravo and yes, I've heard every BB joke there is so don't even bother."

"He's magnificent," she says. "I'm Katelyn and I'm here with my girlfriend."

That makes Freckles a mare and Adam sighs. Brad strokes his back and Adam shakes his head. For a city that prides itself on being ahead of the curve, LA's pony circle is boringly conservative. Adam and Glitter are the only stallions in this group and Glitter is a cart pony. Adam's seen him and his trainer win a dozen races and Glitter even loans his old cart out to any pony who's thinking about joining the event.

Adam prefers dressage. It makes him think of dancing and Adam's bridle jingles as he swallows and Brad excuses them from the conversation with a half-asses promise to meet up later. He leads Adam around to one of the practice rings and starts putting him through his paces. Adam relaxes more, relearning how to read the tension in the reins and the tone of Brad's voice.

Brad feeds him slices of apple and keeps him hydrated but by the time he's satisfied that Adam's done enough for one day, Adam is sweaty and flushed and feeling the ache in his calves and core. Brad leads him back to the stall, letting Adam set the pace and wipes him down. Adam's tired and Brad has to poke him to eat his dinner.

Adam's asleep practically before Brad has the blanket settled around him and he sleeps deeply for the whole night with the smell of clean straw and the occasional jingle of tack from the other stalls. It's the best night's sleep he's gotten all week.

The next morning, Brad hurries in with his hands clapped to his mouth and giddy with excitement. He gets Adam up and brushed and he's practically dancing around Adam, humming snatches of music as he straightens Adam's hair and feeds him chunks of granola bar for breakfast. Adam is half-tempted to bite but Brad can be a bitch on a good day and Adam isn't that keen on testing out the new crop.

He finds out why Brad was so giddy when they go out to the dressage ring and Katelyn from yesterday is sitting on the fence, watching a small blonde woman wearing cream jodhpurs and polished boots putting her pony through his paces. Only the straps of the bridle keep the bit in Adam's mouth. 

The music playing from the speakers around the arena is a orchestral cover of 'It's a Kind of Magic' with a heavy percussive beat. It's the most modern music Adam's ever heard another dressage team use by at least a hundred and fifty years. Adam would be fascinated just by that but the pony is small with golden skin and a really, really nice ass. He's ripped but not like the twinks who wanna be bodybuilders. Adam watches the way the muscles in his back flex as his trainer urges him through a side-pass and he pirouettes smoothly.

There's a rein leading from his bridle but it's hanging slack between them. Some new trainers keep the rein tight and drag the pony's head around. Brad did, the first time when they were drunk and Adam was tottering around in hoof-boots that were a half-size too small. This pony - and Adam's never seen him, not at any of the other events - is moving easily and wow, Adam can't look away. 

The pony is gloriously comfortable in his own skin. He's only wearing the leather harness, with bridle and blinkers and even a matched pair of plumes but the harness looks new. As Adam and Brad watch, his trainer turns him so he's moving towards them. The first thing Adam notices is that the pony's not wearing a pouch. Adam doesn't even pretend he doesn't look down first and hell yeah, he's got a nice cock. His skin is paler around his groin but not as pale as Adam would have expected and he can't tear his eyes away.

The pony doesn't notice him; all his attention is on the woman guiding him through the routine. His trainer curves him into a closing spiral in a fluid tempi trot as the music drops to a whisper and he finally comes to a stop, right in the centre of the arena. He's breathing deep and his skin gleams with sweat but his shoulders are relaxed and his head is up. His trainer is smiling and Adam startles when Brad pats him on the shoulder.

"Well, at least we know there's going to be some pretty scenery," Brad says mostly to himself. "Need to pick up the quality though."

Adam snorts, tugging on the lead rope as the trainer leads the new pony out of the arena. Katelyn comes running over to kiss her enthusiastically. Adam twists his head to stare at them. The new pony has his head ducked and his cheeks are pink. He looks up and meets Adam's eyes. His head comes up sharply and there's a stunned second where Adam feels coltish and clumsy, like the world is unstable under his feet.

Then the pony's eyes crease up at the corners and he ducks his head, curving his body at little away but watching Adam from the corner of his eye. Adam steps forward almost without meaning to and Brad tugs his halter rope to hold him in place. 

"Freckles," the trainer chides in a sweet southern accent. "Don't start acting up."

She flicks at his hip and 'Freckles' side-steps, ducks his head and clops along behind her.

Adam doesn't look around but he really, really wants to even as Brad leads him forward.

He sees 'Freckles' a lot over the next two days because Brad - who is evil and a bitch and god, Adam is going to make him drive all the way home for this - makes friends with Katelyn and Katy who is 'Freckles' actual trainer. Adam learns from the conversations Brad has with Katy while they're all working in the same arena that 'Freckles' is her ex-boyfriend; they are both at least bi-sexual and they haven't been together for at least five years. He doesn't know what 'Freckles' is called when he's not in harness but he does know that 'Freckles' comes from a small town in Arkansas but he's moved to LA sometime in the last year.

Adam listens to these conversations while he tongues his bit and watches 'Freckles' move. Katy likes to keep him oiled with means his skin looks slick and soft and Adam can see the way his muscles bunch and move. He doesn't need to hear Katy tell Brad that 'Freckles' sings to know he's a musician; it shows in the fluid easy rhythm of how he moves and how he's almost a step ahead of Katy through the whole routine.

Adam hasn't said a word to him but there's a whole conversation happening as they pass by each other. 'Freckles' will meet his eye and sometimes, when Brad and Katy are talking excitedly about the latest celebrity gossip, they'll match tempo. Adam hears him humming to himself when they're in their stalls at night and he hums back. 'Freckles' likes John Mayer but he's surprisingly awesome at picking up when Adam's in a Bowie mood.

The actual event is practically an anti-climax; after all Adam's worry and hope, it feels like a big interruption and he only gets to see 'Freckles' performing because Brad is at his bitchiest and no-one is going to ask him to stable Adam before he's good and ready. It's beautiful, perfectly polished and Adam feels guilty that he prefers 'Freckles' when he's relaxed and just letting the music move him. The sharp precision of the formal event doesn't suit him but Adam is fiercely glad that he and Katy manage to beat the rest of the herd for second place.

Adam lets Brad hook the rosette onto his bridle and very carefully does _not_ smile when Brad says "Still the champions, baby!" in his ear.

After that there's mostly boring socializing; 'Freckles' and Katy are swarmed by interested people and Brad doesn't do crowds. Adam submits to being petted and cooed at by the various trainers, even as he tries to crane his neck around to look for 'Freckles'. 

Then it's time to go back to his stall and change back. Adam keeps quiet and Brad doesn't push him to talk. He just helps Adam out of the harness and puts it away while Adam grabs a shower. Adam finishes dressing and steals Brad's compact to put on eyeliner and a little lip gloss. He is totally fucking stalling and after the third ignored insult, Brad flounces off with the tack bag, leaving Adam hesitating in the stall. 

He can hear Katelyn and Katy chattering excitedly and he squares his shoulders. He's spent the whole fucking weekend running around naked and unashamed but talking to a boy is suddenly so terrifying?

Adam steps out just as Freckles is closing his stall door. He's still stupidly cute but the loose jeans and oversized plaid shirt make him look small and hide the golden skin and ripped muscles Adam knows are underneath. Knowing that makes it easier to step forward, holding out his hand and smile.

"Hey, I'm Adam and I just wanted to say that you did really well," Adam starts and swallows. He hasn't been this nervous talking to a cute boy in years. "And, well, I was wondering..." Adam hesitates. "If maybe you wanted to get a drink sometime? I mean, I know, I don't even know your real name or anything and-"

Freckles opens his eyes really wide for a second and Adam's close enough to see the pink blush spreading across his cheeks but he smiles (and yeah, it's just as adorable as the rest of him) and takes Adam's hand.

"Well, my name's Kris and yeah, yeah, that would be cool."


End file.
